A Professor's Seminars Continue: Part I
By
Caterina Duvay
(clitcatduvay@yahoo.com)
Disclaimer: Not for minors. Feedback welcome.
(This is a continuation of the series "A Professor's Unpredictable Seminar. Thanks to the many who have encouraged me to continue! -- and note new email address)
Part I
My name is Kristina and I am a professor of women's studies at a large university. After the series of encounters inaugurated by an `unpredictable' seminar, I got myself into trouble, real trouble. I thought I'd found an ideal pair of lipstick dommes in Nikki and her aunt, a younger and older woman who excited me in hitherto unimaginable ways, but I grew restless again for new experiences.
One weekend while they were away at a merchandising conference (buying more toys, more tools, more lingerie, and presumably betraying me with some new-found sub no doubt) I decided to travel a few hours outside town to a raunchy bar that had quite a reputation for `welcoming' gurls like myself who found freedom in subservience.
Although I was a little apprehensive, the dramatic sessions with my students, the students who woke my smoldering submissive desires, emboldened me. I bristled with erotic energy as I made my 1 AM entrance into "DD's Delights." The joint was packed and I was dressed -- or more accurately, undressed -- to kill. I was wearing the flimsiest white gauzy cotton dress; it was cut low and ended high, just below my pussy. Underneath I wore a sheer nipple-less bra, a sheer thong and a little more. Two small silver clamps pincered my large nipples and were connected by a thin silver chain which was itself connected to another chain that linked two silver clamps on my labia. My juices were flowing and I was flooded with anticipatory excitement.
I'm not classically pretty, but at 5'7", 123 lbs, my firm body could be quite alluring, my blonde hair and pouty lips inviting. I wore a pair of expensive and elegant red heels of moderate height: they matched my gleaming red lipstick. I took a risk with my earrings, which were really the same kind of small silver pincers that were clamping my nipples and cunt lips. A red leather choker completed by ensemble. I was a walking invitation for a gal with any gumption.
The mixologist who served me as I sidled up to the crowded bar was very pretty and smiled as she placed a glass of vodka in front of me. As I sipped it and it began to seep into my brain I felt a lovely soft hand graze along my spine and a lightly and freshly scented breath waft against my ear.
"Keep your eyes straight ahead, like a good little girl, and order three more of the same."
The bartender smiled as she served me my new order and I extracted a few $20 bills from my red leather purse.
The voice continued in a whisper as the hand roamed a bit more boldly over my back, up and down, caressing, assessing....
"Knock it down, girlie," said the voice as a hand drew one of the drinks away. I downed the drink as ordered and was surprised to see the bartender take the third.
The hand along my back was electric: my back began to arch in response to its touch as it traveled along my shoulders, my buttocks, as it reached in front along my stomach and then under my breasts which ached with desire. Lips traveled along my neck and I nearly jumped off the barstool. Girls were beginning to watch from around the bar, but I was focused on the bartender's inviting eyes and the mysterious strong woman behind me.
The bartender was very very sexy in a rough sort of way -- short spiky dark hair, hazel eyes, firmly moulded breasts that looked to be pierced under their halter top, cut-off jeans so tight they seemed painted on and moist....Her lean legs and thighs were beautifully tanned. I loved her cowboy boots. She served me another and I was again commanded to down it quickly. I was fast growing tipsy and more overtly responsive to the mysterious caresses and whisperings and in something of a blur I found myself being escorted by the sexy bartender to a private room.
My dress was whisked off in a flash and I stood naked in my heels, clamps and choker before being urged to my knees. I found myself dreamily unzipping the bartender's jeans and sliding them off. She now stood directly in front of me, legs apart, and I hungrily engulfed her sweet sweet shaven pussy without a thought. She was delicious. The mystery woman knelt behind me, guiding and groping.
"Ripe for the plucking, isn't she?" said the voice behind.
"Mmmm....yess...." said the bartender. She came in several small shudders.
I was happy and smiled up at her. The room was dark and warm and another girl entered, tough looking but also wickedly sexy and she positioned herself before me and I licked her clean. Then another, a blonde this time, very femme. All the while the woman behind me stroked and pressed me. Yet another drink was served up and I was growing hotter, more lustful, yet also more confused and increasingly out of control, even though I was doing what I loved in tasting and pleasing these strange women and their ravishing cunts.
"She's good, isn't she?" said the Mystery Woman.
"So far she is," replied the blonde, "but she hasn't been tested yet, you know."
"I know, girls, I knew," said the voice.
A strong hand gripped my hair and pulled me to my feet. She turned me around and I found myself gazing at what might have been the most beautiful face I'd ever seen, Asian, framed by long lustrous jet black hair, with exquisite oriental features. She seemed to be in her 30s, and was clad in tight-fitting leather. Her body seemed extraordinarily lithe and firm. She kissed me on the lips deeply and pressed herself against my body, rubbing against my clamped nipples and crotch and nearly making me swoon.
When the kiss finished she proclaimed: "She's mine girls, mine and Vicki's. We're gonna take her home with us."
Holding me by my hair she paraded me, naked, through the bar, out the door and into the parking lot. A crowd of girls followed and watched as I was shoved into the rear seat of her car, mildly drunk, very excited, very wet, though a little worried as Vicki moved beside me.
In a matter of minutes it seemed we had entered the Woman's apartment, elegant and large, situated in a mid-rise building. Vicki flicked on the lights, which were low and soft and I was led to the middle of the living room and made to kneel on a plush dark carpet. My head was swimming as the clamps were removed from my nipples and breasts and my hands were bound with their chains behind me.
"Connie, turn me on, baby!" said Vicki. Now at least I had a name for this Asian beauty.
She moved in front of me while Vicki, also naked, relaxed on the sofa, spreading her legs, playfully tugging on her nipple rings. Connie smiled at me: I was ready to sink my tongue into her, anywhere she wanted. Then she grasped my hair and pulled my head back and cradled my chin in her left hand for a moment.
"You're quite sexy, girlie," she told me. "I like sexy girlie girls, you know?" I was pleased. Then Connie slowly removed her leather gloves. She asked me to lick each glove finger, slowly, and I did, my lust rising, until all were quite wet and glistening.
"Arch your back, honey," she commanded, "and keep your chin up."
She brought the gloves sharply across my face.
"Oooohhh," I muttered. She lashed me from the other side and I involuntarily turned my head. She wasn't pleased. Grabbing my hair roughly she centered my head and ordered me to remain motionless and silent. I made the mistake of nodding and she brought the gloves down right on my mouth: they stung wickedly. She had me moisten them again and again she whipped my lips, fiercely, and again, and again I tried to avoid her blow and again she responded with anger and determination. Taking the clamps from my ears -- my provocative earrings -- she bade me open my mouth. Folding the glove she used it to pull my tongue forward as she clamped each side of it. I couldn't believe how much the clamps hurt, and I began to drool and wince, and she stepped back and lashed my lips with even greater force. My lips were swelling and began to burn. She lashed me three more times and I sank down, sobbing.
Connie lifted my up by my hair and said disapprovingly, "Would you like me to stop, girlie?"
I nodded frantically.
"I'm sorry to hear that, because this is turning Vicki on and I love to turn her on."
She lashed my lips yet again, and again; the impact of her gloves made a sharp crackling sound on my raw mouth. My tongue burned from the clamps and blows and my lips stung intolerably and I was sobbing and heaving with pain and humiliation. Then Connie clutched my hair and pulled me panting across the floor on my knees to Vicki who spread her lovely legs for me. I was so grateful for the cessation of punishment and when commanded to service Vicki's musky wet pussy willingly complied. But the slightest pressure on my sensitive beaten lips sent me weeping and recoiling.
"Use your tongue, girlie," said Connie.
I opened my mouth -- it could barely part -- and pushed my tongue with its clamps through the narrow aperture made by my hugely swollen lips and grazed the very tip across Vicki's gleaming hard clit.
"Flick it," urged Connie. I tried but couldn't. My lips were closing on my tongue with swelling, and my tongue itself could hardly move from the effect of the clamps.
But I had no choice: Vicki grasped my head and ground her pussy against my mouth and tongue and held my face forcibly to her cunt until she exploded.
Connie unclamped my tongue and brought me to a mirror. I could hardly recognize my face: my lips were simian, thrice their normal size and a raw pink like the inside of my cunt. Connie also unbound my hands, had me wash up and gave me a balm for my brutalized lips.
I had stopped weeping by now but felt weary and dizzy. I wanted to go home.
"Our little girlie girl isn't so pretty right now, is she?" oozed Connie.
"Fuck pretty," said Vicki. "Nobody's prettier than you anyway." Connie smiled.
"She's a crybaby, that's for sure," said Connie. I was hurt -- how did they expect me to react to such brutality?
"Not only is she a crybaby," piped in Vicki, "but she's a fucking fraud." She came over to me and spat in my face.
"Who do you think you fucking are, walking into our bar, primped like a slave and not being able to take the heat?"
"She wanted to be treated with kid gloves" chimed in Connie. Vicki laughed. I didn't think it was very funny. Then Vicki turned to Connie. "Turn me on again, baby, the night's still young."
"With pleasure," Connie replied. She dropped to her knees and planted a long wet kiss on Vicki's cunt. Then she rose and stripped, leaving on only her thigh-high leather boots. Her waist was obscenely narrow, her shoulders broad, and her arms thin and smoothly muscled. Her long black hair was richly draped over her slim torso, reaching nearly to her beautiful rounded ass. Her pussy -- and I could already smell its magnificently sweet aroma -- had just a small tuft of jet black hair above her pink slit. Her perfect body was so tight, so limber, so firm, so delectable ... and so forbidding. Connie spoke in hushed tones: "I'm not through with you yet."
She led me into the adjacent room, a bedroom. Two walls were entirely mirrored, floor to ceiling -- the one against which the four-poster was pressed, and another, at a right angle, situated some ten feet away. Connie drew me to the foot of the bed. I could see myself straight ahead in the mirror above the headboard, and also to the right in the mirror-wall. I watched dreamily as my hands were cuffed to each upper post, and me ankles to each lower bedpost.
Vicki meanwhile stretched herself out on the bed in front of me. She could see me head on and also in the mirror to her left. Connie stepped away for a minute and returned wearing a strap-on -- a large ribbed phallus that stood nearly upright. She also carried a long thin birch rod. My knees buckled.
"I'm going to turn you into a tiger, baby," cooed Connie, "with stripes to match your pretty red shoes."
I gulped and closed my eyes as the first swoosh of the rod came down. I thought she would begin gently, but no -- I groaned and glanced at my right flank. A long thin red welt began to appear. The second blow seared, landing across my tender back. I exhaled and fought back tears. The third burst upon my buttocks.
"I like watching our girlie's face, Connie -- I think she likes it, a lot," said Vicki as she lay languorously before me. I could smell her pussy as it became more aroused. I myself was a raw mixture of confusion, pain and desire. What was happening was far and away more than I had ever bargained for. I was afraid but also afraid to show my fear.
Incredibly enough my cunt was sopping wet, and although tears came inescapably to my ears with each merciless blow, I blinked them away. I gazed in the mirror to my right and saw my newly striped body -- ass, sides, arms and legs -- and then I heard Connie's unctuous voice in my ear.
"Each lash is your dearest friend, girlie, each blow brings freedom. Give in to it."
Something snapped and I relaxed and I entered another zone, a zone beyond mundane physical pain and eroticism. Somehow I began to accept each lash as a source of erotic energy: my body rippled with each blow . The burning and shimmering of my flesh traveled throughout me, inside and out, culminating in the piercing twinge of lust in my wetter and wetter cunt.
Vicki caught the change and began to respond by writhing and fingering herself and licking her fingers.
"I want to see the slut cum," she said hoarsely.
I could see Connie smiling in the mirror to my right: she looked so wicked, so beautiful, so depraved, so cruelly wanton, so desirable with her black phallus and black boots and black hair. She raised her arm and brought the rod down harder and I shuddered and thanked her.
"Tiger, tiger burning bright..." she chuckled.
What's your name, girlie?" she asked.
"K-Kristina," I muttered breathlessly.
"And what do you do when you're not trying to be a slut?" she continued.
Thwack! I winced but loved it. I thought dreamily I was falling in love with her too....
"I -- I'm a teacher," I replied softly, between breaths.
"No, you're a student, girlie, a mere student.... A student who needs to learn a few lessons."
I nodded deliriously. She brought me a shot of whisky, which I gulped down hastily.
"My favorite number is eleven," she said mysteriously. "By the eleventh stroke of my tool I want you to come. I will strike you harder and harder, I want you to lust for the rod, my rod, I want your thighs and flanks and ass to crave each stroke, and then I want you to thank me."
I sighed, a mass of charged lustful frenzied perverted flesh. I was depraved, but wonderfully so, and so I accepted my depravity.
As the sharp blows fell across me I moaned, and Vicki quite unexpectedly moved towards me on her knees on the bed and with utmost gentle delicacy placed the tip of her tongue on my nipples. She made very delicate circles on my breasts with her fingers, and the contrast between Connie's savagery and Vicki's gentleness made me faint. Connie took her time between strokes, while Vicki grew more ardent, now licking and sucking on my breasts, pulling my nipples with her teeth, squeezing them between her fingers.
My whole body was aflame as she let her right hand graze to my creamy pussy and pressed it against my clit and cunt lips as the eleventh blow seared itself across my ass and she held her hand there as I came in thunderous waves, tears of grateful pleasure-pain streaming into my eyes.
"I love you both so much!" I cried, "I love you! Thank you! Thank you!"
I gradually settled down as Connie and Vicki kissed my face and neck and caressed my hair.
"You'll have your stripes, your marks of honor, for several days, Kristina," said Connie, "and we'll want you to be proud of them."
I smiled and nodded and then watched keenly as Connie moved in front of me onto the bed. Vicki lay with her legs wide open. I couldn't believe her capacity: she had already come twice, and yet she was ready for more!
"Fuck me, baby, take your bitch!" called Vicki. Connie mounted her, her strong lithe form sliding easily on top, the dark phallus entering smoothly.
"Oh yes!" cried Vicki, "Fuck me hard, hard and deep, baby, fuck your bitch, fuck me!"
She thrust herself into Connie as Connie thrust into her, slowly, deeply and very hard. She began to pick up speed and Vicki screamed as Connie brought her mouth down on hers while thrusting, and again Vicki came.
Connie disengaged herself and removed the strap-on. She quickly turned around, squatting on Vicki's mouth with her drooling pussy, looking me right in the eye as she licked and sucked on the cock. Vicki was licking her like a madwoman and Connie slid her pussy up and down her face and purred and tugged on Vicki's nipple rings. Holding the cock in her mouth, she grabbed Connie's ankles and pulled her legs backwards and used them to balance herself as she rode Vicki's mouth and pressed herself down on her harder and harder.
I was amazed at the sight of Vicki's open cunt and ass. Connie leaned forward. They were now in a 69 as Connie straddled Vicki's head with her legs. But Vicki's legs were pulled back and outwards, and as Connie stretched herself to lick her lover-bitch she brought the cock and moved it into Vicki's beckoning ass, filling it to the hilt. Vicki groaned as Connie tongued her slit while fucking her ass. I was sure Vicki couldn't come yet again -- but I was wrong! And as she came her licking grew more frenzied and the cool savage Connie succumbed, screaming and jumping and flailing and crying out.
"Yes, you fucking bitch, make me cum! You beautiful fucking bitch, take my cunt, yes!"
I watched her explode like a magnificent animal, and then finally subside.
My cuffs were removed and I was brought to the bathroom where I relieved myself. My entire body burned, and I felt so amazingly alive. My stripes, dimly reflected, seemed so... so beautiful. I was indeed a tigress....a total animal myself, sexual and subservient to my newest instructors.
Vicki and Connie led me out, reassured me that in 5 days or so my skin would be back to its usual lovely self, and laid me face down on the bed. They cuffed my hands and ankles to the posts of the head and foot, applied ointment to my welts, and then curled up with each other on the floor. I heard their kisses and caresses as I drifted off to sleep and wondered what would next be in store for me. How far would I let myself go? And would I even have any choice in the matter anymore?
(Comments may be emailed -- please note change in email address from previous stories: clitcatduvay@yahoo.com)